


I Didn't Forget The Pie

by liane1787



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depressing, Even I Don't Know Why I Did This, Gen, Inspired by Art, Major character death - Freeform, Please Don't Hate Me, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liane1787/pseuds/liane1787
Summary: Based on a piece of art (posted in the story) I found online.





	I Didn't Forget The Pie

**Author's Note:**

> I don't see an artist name or anything attached to the art that inspired this terrible thing. All I know is that it ripped me all to pieces when I saw it and this story basically wrote itself in my head to go with it. So I figured I'd share the misery. XD Honestly, all credit to the artist, though. Whoever that may be.

* * *

 

_“Dude, are you serious?!”_

_“What?”_

 

_“What do you mean ‘what’? The pie, Sam! You forgot the damn pie. **Again**!”_

_“Are you serious right now?”_

_“Yes, I’m serious. You forgot my pie! That’s pretty serious to me!”_

_“Well you want to know what’s serious to me, Dean? People dying! While you’ve been flirting with everything with a skirt and a pulse at the bar for the past three hours, I’ve been researching this job. You do remember we’re here for a job, right? People dying? Hearts ripped out way too messily to be a werewolf? If you’d bothered to take just five minutes out of your oh-so-busy life of drinking and flirting to get us food yourself, you’d have your goddamn pie! But no! You’d rather leave me to do all the research on my own and then give me a food order, but ‘oh, here’s a list a mile long of my I don’t want this and I don’t like that’. Then you actually want to stand there and bitch at me when I forget something. Fuck off, Dean! You want pie that bad, you can go back out and get it yourself. Me, I have more research to do on whatever it is that’s killing people around here. By all means, keep distracting me about your stupid pie so that takes longer and this thing can kill someone else, though.”_

 

Sam blinked back tears and tried to keep his hands from shaking as he walked across the grass. God, how he regretted saying those words. Throwing those things in Dean’s face. Because right now he would give anything – literally anything at all – to have Dean drinking and flirting and bitching about pie again.

 

Because Dean _had_ gone back out. And it hadn’t even really been about pie so much anymore at that point. They’d just needed time apart after Sam’s little tirade so that neither of them could say or do anything else that would have them at each other’s throats.

 

So Dean had left their motel room, and Sam had stewed in his own anger for a while longer, and at some point the pissed-off had turned to exhaustion and he’d fallen asleep with his head on his computer. When he’d woken up hours later it had been to the sound of two police officers knocking on the door holding Dean’s fake ID, and they were so sorry for waking him but something had happened to Agent Ford.

 

_“It looks like the same MO as the rest of them.”_

 

It had taken both officers to hold him back while he’d yelled and screamed and demanded to be allowed to go to the scene. Meanwhile, both officers had begged and pleaded for him not to do it, not to go there, that he didn’t want that sight to be how he remembered things. When Sam’s knees had buckled and given out, all three men had crashed to the ground.

 

Sam had laid there sobbing on the motel room carpet, not even caring how filthy it was, for he didn’t even know how long. Until the sound of his phone ringing eventually brought him out of it, that was all he knew for sure. And then the tears had started right back up again, because it was Bobby calling to say that he’d figured out what they were hunting.

 

Bobby had offered to send another hunter to town to take care of it, but Sam had refused. This thing was his. Despite his insistence, there was no satisfaction as he watched the lamia burn, though. Only the same emptiness.

 

It was an emptiness that stayed with him as he cleaned up from the hunt. As he broke into the morgue and snuck Dean’s body into the backseat of the Impala. As he dug the grave, because there was no way in _hell_ he was salting and burning his brother’s body. Dean was going to need something to come back to, after all.

 

It was an emptiness he was still feeling now, nearly six months later, as he walked towards the little wooden cross he’d put up as a marker.

 

No demon wanted to deal with a Winchester. Angels weren’t willing to help any more than demons were. Sam was exhausting every resource he had, but so far everything had come up empty. Even Bobby was starting to lose hope that they would find a way to get Dean back.

 

“Hey, Dean,” Sam clutched at the little plastic container in his hands, tears spilling freely down his face. He held the container out as if to show his brother. “I, uh…I didn’t forget the pie this time. See?”

 

He set the container against the cross and sat on the ground next to it, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. The overwhelming emptiness crashed in on him and he lowered his face to his knees and wept.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There are a couple of manips and another piece or two of fan art that I saw that have inspired the muse, so I'm going to make it into a bit of a series just to keep them all together. Don't worry, not all of them are going to be depressing like this one! In fact, the next one I'm working on is pretty much all smut. I'm open for suggestions if y'all have any that you think you might like to see a story go along with. Manips, fan art, even text posts! I'm most comfortable with Wincest/J2 (please don't judge, just my personal preference), but if there's another ship you have art you'd really like to see a story to, feel free let me know anyhow!


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